Tuesday, October 30, 2018

October 30th 2018...more ....thoughts

I don't know...

I can't explain how fortunate my life has been.

I've worked hard my whole life.  I started baling hay at 12.  The bales weighed half of me.  At $3 an hour, nobody could stop me from moving them.  The Rough's fed me this awesome dinner after a day in the field.  He was older, grandpa aged,  and complained about the raspberry seeds getting stuck under his dentures.  That family lived quite far away, but I made a little money, and it slightly cut my energy levels helping me sleep at night.  The dinners after a hard days work were amazing.  Being the smallest didn't seem to  cut me much from the hierarchy of the situation.  The "hierarchy" was established by work ethic.  At that time, I had no idea what "work ethic" meant.  Getting the bales of hay stacked into the loft was the task.  At 135 pounds dealing with a 70lb bale of hay coming up the conveyor belt followed by more less than 5 feet apart in the loft of a barn in 100 degree temps was a challenge my body loved in some sort of sadistic way that I've seemed to carry with me.throughout life.

The next farm was pretty much similar to the first, except I was 13 and practically an adult.  Somehow my weight hadn't changed, but I was nearly 2 inches taller.  The Blacks had pretty much the same thing going.  A tractor pulled a baling machine, the baler spit the bales onto a wagon where one guy (Donny Black) would stack the bales on the wagon.  Another older guy, Dave (Black) would take the trailer full of bales of hay to someone's barn they either owned or rented, and we would stack them in the loft.  These were basically the second farmers I worked with while in my nearly preteen years.  The first ones spoiled me completely with the complete "dinner after a hard days work".  It was an amazing thing that dinner that the Rough's gave.  You might imagine a 13 year old skinny kid, a bit shy, after a day of expending energy moving 600 bales of hay, waiting for Mrs Black to come out of the house and say that supper is ready.

It didn't happen.  She never came out.  Dinner didn't happen.

SORRY for the interruption but I just googled "baling hay" because I wasn't sure I was spelling it right.  I was desperate.  I hate to use "google" for much of anything after seeing how much my young friends seem to rely on it, rather than learning things on their own.

The Blacks lived down the road from my parents house.  We had two acres, Mr Black, Addison Black,  had 200 just south of us and much further down Borror road.  Mr Black would sometimes pull his glasses out of his gray mechanics looking shirt complete with chest pockets and a collar, and put them on to look at the mole on my neck.  He thought it was a tick.  It happened several times while I was young.  Now that I'm older, I understand how year after year you might make that mistake forgetting how you made the same mistake last year.  Mr Black, at 72, was probably in better shape than I am now at 52.  He told me once that he had never had an ounce of trouble with his teeth, until he went to see a dentist at 64.  The dentist was bent on removing his wisdom teeth.  Addison, Mr Black, had not only not seen a dentist nearly his entire life, didn't have a toothbrush until he was 40.  He also told me some cool stories of the trouble he made as a youth, but asked me not to share.  Sorry.  Mr. Black did tell me that the Chevy pickup truck that he recently bought (1994) for 24k cost more than the entire 200 acres he owned.  He also told me about hiding the electric fence wire in the place where him and his buddies knew the dairy farmer down the road pee'd in every morning.   Mr. Black had great stories.  I kind of , well, myself and a friend, kind of, well duplicated Mr. Blacks electrocution thing ..with a modern twist.  Myself and a friend used a taser on the copper pipes leading to his dads shower.  We might have gotten away with it had we not been laughing so hard.

Thursday, October 25, 2018

10-26-18...just some thoughts....

Thursday here.  It started out rainy and cloudy.  At lunch the rain had stopped but the clouds continued.

Liz called to tempt me into something active.  Surfing or running up the hill, the one hill on island.  Yesterday was similar in all respects except it might have been a bit windier which really didn't play a part.

"oh no....I don't think the surfing will be good, a bit of south in the wind, plus it's winter time  now"

"no, i have no energy, its winter time...it's cloudy...it's unmotivational...it's a perfect time to rest and just chill ...that's what wintertime is about"

so the latter excuse was for Wednesday, and the first for Thursday.  So its kind of reversed but you understand the thoughts a bit.

It's been stated here before on this ramble, about how there are no seasons out here.  There is no real change of seasons.  At best its a shift of a half hour of sunlight at sunset.  Of course it's also at sunrise but since there is work 5 of 7 days a week sunrise change isn't as notable.  Being from Ohio, where the seasons are incredibly different compared to living 8 degrees off the equator (Ohio is around 44).  Cool weather comes, storms come, leaves change, sports change, clothing changes, wood is stored, lawn mowers get winterized along with boats and days are ten hours shorter.  That is what happens at 44 degrees off the equator.

8 degrees off the equator, the trade winds come back and the days are an hour shorter.  That's it.

Compare those two paragraphs.  I came from the first paragraph.  Living in the second paragraph means missing the hibernation time that the first one never mentioned.  Hibernation.  That, in Ohio, was what I considered the excuse to chill.  Its cold outside, it's dark.  Sit home and relax because your activities are limited.  It was awesome.....the woodstove was lit, it was incredibly perfect to be warm by fire and watch movies.

Shift your mindset back to this place.  This place where the water stays 85 degrees year round.  Where the air stays pretty much the same, because its an island surrounded by water that stays 85 degrees year round.  So the only real difference here is that after Turkey day there is wind, tradewinds averaging around 23 mph, and the sun goes down at 6:35 instead of 7:08.

Winter in Ohio lasts at least 4 months.  Four months to hibernate.  Four months to rest.  Limited outdoor activities due to limited light.  It's a perfect system for an active person.

Here, 8 degrees off the equator where the daylight only shifts a bit, and the temperatures will never have you hiding inside to hibernate, one must embrace the slightest resemblance of winter and dive into it head first to hibernate.

So it was cloudy and rainy for the last two days...……………..and I happily hibernated for a few hours after work instead of surfing or running or ……..




Tuesday, October 16, 2018

10-16-18....I wonder why my posts are coming so far apart.....

Maybe because its not as new as before.  I hope its not because somehow the late troubles this place has had has taken some momentum from me....

I'm going to chalk it up to being so busy enjoying things out here, I'm too tired to be enthusiastic about updating this outlet.

That being said, it must be a pretty worthy experience that has brought me back.....

Liz and I, and whomever we could drag out, have been camping on the 6th or 7th island up on the west reef (read 17 miles thru the lagoon ) for at least 20 weekends this year.  We've cleaned it up, raked paths around it, burnt some of the plastic bottles, taken some of the glass bottles back to Kwaj, and generally made it a little private retreat.  It's easy to get to during the not windy season.  The non windy season here this year has extended its visit.  Normally , as I see it, the trade winds are back by mid October and somewhere in the 15 knot range.  Today, Oct 16, it was calm.

Last weekend we gave Camp T a break.  We stayed home due to lack of wind and only a sailboat for travels to the island.  I was kind of aching for some physical action. Tim, Liz and I went surfing early Sunday morning.  Peddling the two miles down to the "shark pit", one of the surf breaks was a nice physical change from just waking up on a deserted island with nothing to do physically but go snorkel or take a walk.  Surfing, as already stated in previous blogs is very very physical, even after having built up some muscles.

We surfed until the tide took the water away from the reef, making it a little to shallow to be safe.  Tim left then.  He didn't really leave because of the depth, but more about an obligation of a family breakfast at the chow hall.  Liz and I stayed for another half hour, which resulted in a few scratches from the coral for her because it might have been a little shallow.

So we left surfing.  I reminded her that I promised myself sunday morning that I needed some hill running if we were on island.  So, we were close to the hill, and we both ran up it and walked down it enough to satisfy our lungs.

I'll have to return to this ….to get to the point...……….but not tonight